


Tailored Uniforms

by Azilver



Series: We Own London Now [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Gang Violence, M/M, Police
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azilver/pseuds/Azilver
Summary: A new task force is assembled for their briefing but first they need to know who they're up against.





	Tailored Uniforms

**Author's Note:**

> I'm away from a good internet connection at the moment but I hope everyone has a great New Year and 2018!  
> I wanted to write something to give a bit more background and, of course, world building. I did write most of this at Nano meetups but then my laptop goes and dies and I had to run around to rescue my files and other stuff happened. Hopefully, I can get to the next part I want to do but if anyone wants to have fun in this verse, have fun! And link me ^_-

 

There are three of them on the new gang task force Superintendent Ennis has assembled. Detective Petree recognises Cooper from a case they both worked a few months back, he knows the blond man’s a decent sort, if a little too quiet for his taste. The other detective is an Indian woman who introduces herself curtly as Cheema. He thinks he’s heard of her in the general gossip of day to day life at the station.

There’s also a pretty little constable handling the tea when he arrives; probably Ennis's new girl as the man does have a reputation for running the assistants ragged. Petree takes a moment to appreciate the only thing worth looking at in the office they’re assembled in. Must be a new girl, he thinks, skirt still a little too fitted across a round arse, tits pushing at the buttons of her crisp white blouse. Give her a few months on the job and she’ll get a looser set of rags and let those delicious red locks go from that little bun she's got pinned up all neat and tidy. He even likes the look of her little overbite; he has a thing for girls who look on the edge of gasping.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He gives her a wink as she hands him a hot cuppa. Oh, he likes it when they blush.

“Sir.”

She scuttles over to Cooper’s seat to hand him his cup before the Superintendent marches in and over to the boards against the wall covered in photos. The man sent them to the office, so he doesn’t start with any niceties and gets right into it.

“For those of you who are somehow on this task force and don’t know who or what Kingsman and the Unwin Boys are, get the hell out and here’s a basic run-down:

“The Unwin Boys are a gang, started in the sixties by Lee Unwin,” He points to two photos of the same man, but clearly with a number of years between them, showcasing dirty blond hair over smirking blue eyes and a stubborn jaw. “An estate thug with a brain. He recruited and worked deals ‘til he managed to take over a good deal of territory. The Boys run the local drug and sex business out of here,” Again he points to a photo, this time of the sort of estate building that’s common in their area. “His Boys, as he calls them, are kind of what you might expect from this lot, large numbers but few actual brains. Unwin had a few lieutenants who managed the various crews and sidelines he was into, including the usual drugs, sex and gambling. Unwin himself married his high school sweetheart, Michelle, and they had two kids, Gary, who goes by of all things Eggsy, and the late lamb Daisy.

“A few years ago Lee got himself killed and Eggsy took over things. His crews are pretty interchangeable except for two lieutenants. Jamal and Ryan,” The photo this time is of two young men decked out in trackies and snapbacks. One is a good looking black kid texting away on his phone while the other is a shifty looking white kid who appears to be enjoying a good natter with his distracted mate. “Both grew up in the same estate building as Eggsy, may as well be the boy's brothers. He trusts them and you can consider them second in command of the Boys nowadays. Now, the Unwin Boys are in charge of this area.”

He points to a map of London which has two large sections highlighted in two different colours, taking up all but the whole city. The area he indicates is highlighted in yellow and marked with a stylized red and black UB. Ennis then points to the area highlighted in green and marked by golden circle with an upside down K inside of it, before he turns to the other board and its photos depicting a number of men and some women all in sharp suits and styled like high-end catalogue models, and what looks like the store front of a tailors. “This is Kingsman. I want to say it's a bunch of rich twats playing gangster and up to about twenty years ago I’d be right. From what we know, Kingsman are the bloody gentlemen gangsters who all take their names and positions from the legend of King Arthur. Essentially the boss goes by the title of Arthur, his lieutenants are the Knights and the soldiers are their protégés, with a few others here and there. They run most of the high end shit in London and the surrounds, everything from guns, drugs, prostitutes and whatever else is going.”

He indicates a picture of an elderly man with the sort of face that said he had a permanent bad smell under his nose, “This was the previous Arthur, a man called Chester King. He was running the show for years, got into some bad deals, ripped off some people he shouldn’t have, had multiple affairs with married women and was generally considered a rich snob of an asshole. Then there’s an accident and he and three of his men die. And when I say accident I mean everyone knew it was nothing of the sort but we had no bleeding evidence otherwise.” He scowls at that, not so much at the murder of four men but rather at someone being able to cover it up and getting one over on them all.

“Far as we’re concerned it was this bastard, the present Arthur, one Harry Hart.” This photo is near the middle of the board, next to one of a handsome young man with a cheeky grin. The man in the picture looks like he stepped out of a fucking gentleman’s catalogue, wearing a tailored suit and glasses, his dark hair neatly styled and features something like the strong aristocracy of old movies. Everything about the man screams old money and capable confidence, that he’s a man who always gets what he wants. “Hart’s a strange one. Grew up with old money and older connections, and for all of it looked like a future in anything other than the bloody mob. Hell, he even did a stint in the service. Except, daddy was a Kingsman who married the scion of mob royalty. And mummy wasn’t a slouch either. Woman was known to run deals for her old man in Moscow, Tokyo, and Rio to name a few. Well, their boy grew up and took on the mantel of Galahad before taking over as Arthur.”

“We had an insider for a bit before and after King got his, the bastards own nephew. From what he told us, Hart and King never saw eye to eye, especially on what it took to be a Kingsman. King was a snob, no two ways about it. He refused to even consider anyone without a pedigree longer than your arm while Hart’s all about personal worth and proving yourself above your background. Drove King mad and they had more than one blow out over it.

“Six months into his reign Hart clears out most of the old system, half the members of Kingsman included, installs a number of new Knights and soldiers, and before anyone can blink the group's taken over a third of London. By the time the dust's settled our insider's disappeared. No trace, nothing. Hart’s good, clean, knows when and where to apply pressure. And the guy is more than happy to get his hands dirty, so don’t assume that just because he's sitting pretty at the top he can't fight or that he’ll be easy to take in. Remember that stint in the service? It’s all blacked out and not just because of his role in Kingsman.” Ennis paused to let that settle in.

“His second is this man,” He points to a photo of a bald man with thick rimmed glasses. “Goes by Merlin. He’s something of a tech wizard, yes, yes, all puns aside the man is a genius. And a ghost. We’ve had the best of the best researching the man and all we know is that he's Scottish. He just pops up with Kingsman sometime around twenty-five years ago.

“Alright, so in general there are always somewhere around ten Knights, as they call themselves. They usually have a speciality, cleaning or assassination or whatever the fuck they need, though, again, we can never prove a damned thing. They usually all take on a protégé, the guy or girl they choose to train up as their replacement. Yeah, not like other gangs there. Protégés are hand-picked and training is brutal as far as rumour has it. This isn’t just the usual banger thug in training, they train in hand to hand, weapons, psychology, fucking war games, I wouldn’t be surprised. Point is, if you manage to take out a Knight their protégé just steps right in.

“At present there’s a full house and nothing worthwhile on most of them. Even when we have a name to a face there’s nothing to go on. So, it’s just easier to refer to them by their codenames because if the Knights involved you can bet your ass their protégé is somewhere in there.

“Now,” He points to the photo’s of the Kingsmen. “here’s who’s who and some basics, but get yourselves acquainted people, you need to know this lot on sight.”

The photo he points to first is of a dark haired man in a black on black suit, pinned to the corner of it is another smaller photo which looks like a military ID. “This here’s Kay, ex-special ops and something of an expert on anything with bullets. We don’t know who this guy is,” He points to the other man in the photo who looks like he’s come from a hipster club, hair long enough to start curling and gesticulating wildly as he talks to the other man. “But we know he’s not Kay’s protégé and seems involved in Merlin’s side of things. We suspect they’re lovers.”

“The current Lamorak operates as something like Kingsman's banker while Gaheris and Geraint are like international representatives.” One photo is of a kind looking middle-aged East Asian woman on the arm a man who's partially out of shot. The other shows a muscular black man with stylish facial hair and a young skinny white man chatting over coffee. “Between the three of them they manage the groups financials and connections, both domestic and international. From what we’ve been able to trace back they’re usually economic graduates but, again I should not have to stress this, they are more than capable of killing everyone in this room.”

“Tristan and Galahad,” These photos show a tall and strongly built man in his forties with high cut features and ash blond hair streaked through with silver somehow managing to make him appear even more debonair, and a slightly younger man with a head of rich brown curls and a surly blue gaze. “As far as we know Tristan is an Eastern European blue blood who Hart courted into Kingsman’s service around the same time he took over. He's been known to work with the previous knights in their European deals. When Hart was the previous Galahad he took on the present one as his protégé. They specialise in cleaning a scene and disappearing people, or sending a message, whatever Hart wants. Bastards aren’t often alone but please do not, I repeat, do not try to take either of them if you do catch them alone.

“Bedivere, Bors and Gawain might be the closest thing Kingsman has to thugs and brawlers, but don’t for a second let that make you think they’re idiots. They have extensive weapons and unarmed combat knowledge. Remember, Kingsman's a big player in the arms trade, including occasionally hiring their men out as personal weapons. These three,” Ennis points at a set of photos from which three very different men look back at them, except for the clear confidence in their eyes. “are tough fuckers. Bors is ex-SEALs and we even have security footage of Gawain quite literally taking out two men _after_ taking three bullets.”

Petree lets out a low whistle at that, “No use then?”

“Supposedly a home invasion, he was defending his family and the judge dismissed it. We suspect it was an attempted hit- both men were Pakistani boys associated with a known kiddie trafficker. Didn't help that two weeks later their boss's place is wiped out. And I do mean wiped out- a somewhat too convenient gas explosion if you get my meaning.” He gives a dismissive shrug. It's not often you have to admire one of the bad guys but nobody had shed a tear for the sick bastards.

“Lancelot and Percival.” This time it's a single photo of the two men in question. One wears his tan suit like an accessory as he smiles flirtatiously at his companion, his light brown hair almost foppishly styled. In contrast the other man is all dark hair and eyes, charcoal suit without a wrinkle and expression distant. “Believe it or not they’re married. Percival is something of a demolitions expert and Lancelot is an expert manipulator and infiltrator, even if you don’t see him arrive with Hart, chances are he’s there already. If you’re ever caught up with the man, I’ll warn you now, he’s a flirt, skirt or not, I’ve seen him turn hard as nails politicians into blushing school girls. He’ll convince you to turn your own mother over like it will win you the nobel and then sit back as Percival kills you because it’s all a game to him. And if you somehow believe that flirting will get between them, remember that Lancelot’s protégé is his niece-in-law and Percival is an over-protective bomb expert. His niece isn’t far off either.”

“Dagonet,” This time the photo is of a much older man, with white hair framing a wizened old face though the man’s eyes are hard and dark. “He’s something of the Kingsman consigliere. He’s usually kept at their base of operations, their tailors shop on Savile Row. Again, do not mistake him for an easy mark- if the other Kingsman don’t get you he will. Dagonet is a position similar to Arthur in that it can only be inherited by another Kingsman, usually a Knight who shows aptitude and survives long enough. He will have a protégé too, though it will be one of the Knights he handpicks. In fact, the role of Dagonet is solely chosen by the old Dagonet.”

He turns and catches the constable's eye and nods towards a cup in silent request. “There are likely more people we don't know about at the moment.”

“If we know all this already, then why the fuck are we even here?” Petree asks, “Why aren’t they in jail where they belong?”

“Because,” The Superintendent growls, “We have no evidence or clear connections to anything illegal. A picture of them having dinner with a Russian mobster does not do it for the judge. These are not your usual bangers, Petree. The Unwin Boys are one thing, they have the power in numbers and soldiers are more than willing to take the heat for their activities and we _have_ put a number of _them_ behind bars but we can’t even touch Kingsman. You forget they don’t just look like rich snobs, that’s exactly who they are. They may all be willing to take a bullet for each other but they also make damned sure there’s nothing to send them to jail. They have the money and connections to keep them on the streets and hire the best defence teams should we get even a speck on them.

“We've tried getting someone inside but our best success in the last thirty years was King's nephew back when the old bastard was in charge and he couldn't give us all that much seeing as he was only a protege at the time. Otherwise, you can't just pitch up and demand to be part of the group. They only recruit when one of them bites it and the last time that happened was 'cause a driveby took out Lancelot’s boy, s'when he took on the niece.

“Right now our CI is a low-level Unwin Boy but he's still nowhere near enough to anyone of importance. They've got the usual set-up and Eggsy's a lot tougher on his Boy's than his old man was but he's got them loyal enough that no one else is willing to squeal. Or scared enough. Kid's got a viscious streak that makes you wonder what cracked him.” Ennis taps a folder thick with reports. The glimpse they get of what's inside it is enough to confirm the man's words.

“And that’s not the worst part. Kingsman and the Boys are getting together.”

The Superintendent puffs a sigh as if he regrets all of his life choices. This is one of those cases that makes a man question the truth of karma and ask themselves what they could possibly have done in a past life to deserve this.

“So, at some point after Hart took over he runs into Lee Unwin. Far as we know they’ve never been buddies but other than a few nasty spats they’ve never come to all out war.” He snorts then and draws a lurid red heart around the photos of Gary Unwin and Harry Hart. “Even when Hart shacked up with Unwin’s boy.”

“You’re shitting me?” Cooper actually blurts.

“I wish.”

“Wouldn’t that have automatically set them at each others throats? I can’t imagine finding out your main competition is screwing your son is gonna have you making nice with the guy anytime soon!”

“I’d normally agree but, see, our man in Unwin’s group told us that Lee only found out a few years back when Hart took a hit for the boy. From what we were told, Hart called a meet between their two groups and while they were all outside a car pulled up and shot at them. After the car hightails it out of there Unwin’s boy starts screaming and they see that Hart's all shot up. They got him to a hospital and Eggsy, huh, he goes bleeding mental and has Merlin’s lot track the shooters down. He gets the Boys to grab ‘em and then makes a scene of beating the shit out of them before killing them. He even ordered both groups to watch.

“Turned out that a competitor got a tip where they were gonna be and put a hit out on Eggsy. What no one expected was Hart to cover the boy and take the hit. Seems that that was enough for Lee to consider okaying the relationship. Especially since it turned out they’d been together for at least a year by then and Hart hadn’t made a move on Unwin’s territory.”

“You telling me the whole things a real life Romeo and Juliet, then?” Petree laughs derisively. “Shit, old perv just wants a young ass to tap. Bet that Eggsy kid's got a pretty one under those trackies. He looks the type to enjoy it too.”

Cooper eyes him quietly, smart enough to keep his mouth shut around a higher up but he can’t quite hide the disgusted twitch of his mouth. Even the young constable is hiding her face, the stiff set of her shoulders and downcast gaze speaking loudly of her embarrassment. Cheema's got a look on her face like she wants to agree but won't for some reason.

The Superintendent isn’t so circumspect however, “Shut your mouth, Petree. I don’t give a damn what you think about their relationship but I will say this: Hart has eyes and ears everywhere, and he has no problem making anyone who speaks ill of his boyfriend disappear. Believe me when I say you wouldn't be the first.”

He shakes his head at the idiocy of some people. Hart wouldn’t be the first gangster or mobster to have a thing for taking exception to anyone saying things about his lover. He won’t even mention what remained of a mob guy who'd made some remarks about Hart, Eggsy was a nasty fuck. He shakes it off, they'll learn soon enough, probably when they get a good look at the files.

“About two years back we get a call from the estates where Unwin lived. When we arrived there were Kingsmen and Boys all around and they lead us up to Unwin’s place. The door's been kicked in and there was definitely sign of struggle. Mrs Unwin’s there with her little one, looking wrecked and Hart and Eggsy are standing close to her in their fucking pajamas. Hart takes us through to the bedroom where Lee’s body is lying on the floor, beaten to shit and a bullet through his skull.

“According to Hart and Eggsy they were at Hart's place in Stanhope Mews, asleep, when they got a call from Michelle sometime around two in the morning. She told them that a group of Boys had burst in and forced her and the little girl into the closet. Luckily she grabbed her phone and was able to call them. They race over, calling in some of the Kingsmen and when they arrive it’s to a dead Lee and Michelle and Daisy locked in the closet. Now, I only believe part of that story. It’s more likely that they arrived and grabbed the Boys before they could get a hold of Michelle and Daisy. See, about a week later the remains of one of the Boys’ crews was found scattered around London. We still haven’t found everything but at best guess there were six to eight men in the crew and from what little description Michelle provided it’s likely that at least three were there.

“Forensics ID'd some of the remains, in particular this fucker,” He grabs a photo from the desk, stabbing a pin through it and into the board with clear disgust. “Dean Baker. He was one of Lee's thugs, low level scum, managed some of the small time street sales and girls. Nothing to make a mother proud of but smart enough to think he should be the boss. Everyone knew he had a thing for Michelle, whether because he actually wanted her or because she was the bosses girl who knows, but woman was damned lucky she got that phone in that closet with her. ME reports that he didn't go nicely either. From what little we found of him it was slow going.” He actually lets a little smirk slip through. “Couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke, if you ask me.

“Eggsy took over right after. He moved his mum and sister into one of the residences Kingsman own and he has Boys on them twenty-four-seven. He then cut a bloody fucking swath through the Boys and their crews. And I don’t mean he only killed them, no, a few were even sent to us tail between their legs and all but begging to be put away. Some completely disappeared, others turned up in pieces and one was even shipped off to the Americans for shit he pulled over there.”

Cooper actually looks impressed at that. Normally a clean sweep like that would have severely weakened a group but he supposes that it was less of a gutting of the foundations and more of a removal of hidden rot.

“Things cooled down after about four months, pretty quick if you ask me, but by then Hart and Eggsy were living together and had their biggest weaknesses under lock and key.” Here Ennis actually quirks the tiniest of grins. “And they even got themselves a little nickname for themselves: Hartwin.”

The tea girl chokes on air and Petree catches her trying desperately not to laugh. He has no compunctions and leans back in his chair chortling. Cooper groans and Cheema snickers, “Our very own criminal Brangelina!”

That only makes the laughter worse and even Cooper lets loose a little at that. Not such a tightwad after all. The Superintendent gives them a moment, letting the it break a little of the tension in the room before he speaks again.

“And now we have London’s most dangerous and powerful criminal couple living in a lovely little house in Stanhope Mews. And no, before you ask, we can’t bug it and any attempts at a stake out have resulted in, and I quote, psychological scarring from terror since Hart will insist on bringing them tea and biscuits, while smiling. And Eggsy likes to let everyone and their mother know how very happy he is with Hart.” He gives them a pointed look, understanding how having such an important location but being unable to do anything leaves them wanting.

Cheema stands and goes to check out one of the photo boards. She eyes the various pictures for a moment before settling on one of a small pug playing with a little girl with dirty blonde hair. She eyes the dog speculatively. The Superintendent notices and smirks. “A present of Harts for his boyfriend. If there’s one thing I can say for them, they don’t deal in animals. Lee let his men handle a few fights but the moment Eggsy took over he put an end to it. Kingsman might handle some other unsavoury businesses but they actively put down any dog or animal fighting in their territory. Our guy says from what he heard, so it’s all hearsay to a court mind you, Hart raided a place and after they rounded up all the leaders they tossed them to their dogs. When they were sorting out the other animals Hart found the pup and took it home for his boy who coddles the thing like it’s actually his kid. I can honestly say that I dread whatever happens to the poor sod that screws with that dog. Just so you don’t try.”

“Oh.”

It’s Cooper, leaning back in his chair contemplatively, who decides to get to the heart of the matter. “Why the new task force then, if it’s next to impossible to actually get a conviction on these guys?”

Cheema nods before throwing in her own two cents, “A task force of our size would not be totally effective for such an operation anyway.”

“Because of the impending shit show that London’s about to erupt into.” The Superintendent flops into his own seat and begins to rub at his temples, wary exhaustion and some hysteria in his figure. “Because every damned mobster, gangster, and nefarious individual of any note is going to be pitching up on our doorstep in a few months time. Because we’re about to play host to the biggest wedding since the royals!”

Even Petree’s chairs legs hit the floor at that. Absently he notes the tea constable drops a spoon in shock. “Shit, your joking right?”

“If only my life were that easy. Thanks.” He takes the tea gratefully from the girl, who just smiles sympathetically at him. He takes a deep sip and sighs appreciatively before swing a hand back to smack the board or, more importantly, a photo. They lean in and see Hart and the boy walking together, smiles in place and looking for all the world like any other happy couple. Only there’s a pointed red circle around Unwin’s hand where an elegant diamond and gold band can easily be seen. “Hart proposed, the bastard.”

 

***

It’s late afternoon when a pretty redheaded constable exits the station. She makes her way down to the corner where she catches the bus not five minutes later. She smiles with a slight overbite at the business man who makes a space for her, noting her police uniform and deciding he won’t try his luck.

She rides the bus for seventeen minutes and gets off at the shops. The street is nothing fancy, lined with a number of general shops, everything from a deli to a haberdashery. She walks into a bakery and smiles as the owner directs her to the back. She slips into the single bathroom, making sure to lock the door.

Not pausing she goes to the counter, bends and retrieves a large bag from under the sink. Standing in front of the mirror she slips off her sensible pumps, reaches back and pulls down the zip of her heavy skirt and pushes it down her thighs along with her tights. Each item is methodically folded and put to the side. She then unknots her tie, unbuttons her blouse and shrugs it off, once again folding the items and setting them aside. In nothing but surprisingly elegant underwear, she slips her hands under her hair revealing the red locks to be an expensive wig which she takes off and then from her mouth she withdraws a small false plate, removing the cause of her overbite. From the bag she removes a folded pile of clothes which she places on the counter before taking the pile of clothes she’d recently removed and storing them in the bag.

From the new pile she slips on a crisp white blouse, buttoning it up with ease before stepping into a dark argyle pencil skirt which she pulls over the tails of her blouse. Reaching into the bag again she pulls out a pair of blue heals which she quickly steps into.

She packs away the wig and plate, before stowing the bag back under the sink. At the same time she removes a smaller handbag from which she extracts a few items. With practiced efficiency she removes and reapplies her makeup, the effect less cheap working girl and more elegant business woman. Packing those items away she turns to her hair, releasing the blonde locks from the tight bun and reworking them into a French twist.

With a few final touches she shoulders the handbag and exits the bathroom. Neither of the two customers pay her any attention as she smiles at the owner again. The son steps forward and hands her a simple brown bag from which wafts the tantalizing scent of cinnamon and caramelized sugar. Not wanting or needing to procrastinate further, she casts the man and his girlfriend a wink and appreciative once over both, getting amused and flirtatious grins back. They knew her and would wait until the two customers had left before going to retrieve the bag in the bathroom.

Leaving the bakery, the blonde walks over to where a plain black cab waits. Despite the no fare sign the left passenger door opens for her. She graciously accepts, only looking up at her fellow passenger after the door shuts and the cab starts moving.

“Morganna,” The bespeckled bald man greets her, “I take it that all proceeded well?”

“Merlin. Everything went as predicted.”

“So, how is our dear Superintendent Ennis these days?”

“Good, got his head on straight that one. He knows enough about Kingsman to have us on his radar but not too much that he isn't weary. Unwin's man has been feeding them what we wanted. They have some basic information on the knights, Arthur and yourself but little on Kingsman operations. They know of Morgeuse and suspect his affair with Kay but have yet to guess his mantel. They've somehow confused Bedivere with Bors but tracked him back to his SEAL days.

“In general the task force is less about operations than managing Arthur's wedding guests.”

“Oh, he's going to love that. The team?”

She opens some files on the tablet Merlin hands her and she considers the display a moment before answering. “Petree's old school, good but an ass- he followed the case but couldn't keep his eyes off of me, he also said a few things best left out of Arthur's report.”

Merlin snorts at that, knowing full well the kind of thing a man like Petree could say to rile Arthur. “Anyone with potential?”

“Cooper's by the books, smart enough to keep his mouth shut and watchful- I'd keep an eye on him and see which way he could go.” Morganna pauses on the image of the lone female officer, a darker glint to her eye than with the others Merlin notices. “I'd keep a close eye on Cheema.”

He raises a brow at that.

“I don't like the way she focused on JB. Ennis warned them off but I've heard a few things about her and how she's got a nasty streak to her.”

That's interesting, not something he'd expect from a detective with her record but Morganna's on the job for a reason. He notes it in the woman's file.

“We might want to let some of what happened with Puskin get around,” He nods at the suggestion. They both clearly remember the time the Russian enforcer had kicked aside the curious dog and the silence that had ensued after. Arthur had simply nodded at Tristan and Bedivere who had grabbed the man and dragged him, struggling and swearing, from the room, Eggsy following on after. Puskin's boss had paid too. “I'll see if Eggsy can't have some of his Boys spread it around. Anything else?”

Morganna just smirked, “Arthur may have to have Ennis win some surprise anonymous holiday coupons. I think the poor man's more stressed over this wedding than the grooms!”

 


End file.
